Page 8 of The Shadow Friends

“The essentials?”

“The old gleam in your eye. The wheels in that mind always turning.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Our team was never the same after you transferred to Rome.”

“Rome was a better fit for me. A fresh start.”

“Away from me, you mean.”

“I loved Italy. So did Lloyd.”

“And has it all been marital bliss?”

“You sound skeptical.”

“Call it the bitter voice of experience.”

“How many wives have you gone through now?”

“I’m between number three and number four.”

“Who’s number four?”

“I haven’t chosen her yet.” He winked and lifted his whisky glass to her. He had the same devilish grin that had disarmed so many other conquests, but the years had left their wear on his features: the silver streaks in his hair, his face more deeply engraved with laugh lines. On Rodrigo, those changes were flattering. “I’m always looking.”

She shook her head. “That’s your problem. You never stop looking. It keeps you from seeing what’s right in front of you.”

“You’re right, of course. I should have appreciated what was there in front of me. Those other women, they never really meant anything to me. I’ve matured since then.”

“I doubt it.”

“And this marital bliss thing. Is it real, or just a myth?”

She stared down at her whisky, uneasy about the direction of their conversation. “Why are you here, Rodrigo?”

“I’m only asking if you’re happy. It’s an innocent question.”

“Is it?”

“Because I often wonder what could have been. Don’t you ever think about that?”

“No. Because I know what would have been.”

“You have to admit, it wouldn’t have been boring.”

“That may be true.”

He leaned toward her, his eyes as black as volcanic glass. “You know it’s true. Instead, you chose this?” He gestured to the other attendees in the lounge, sipping drinks, engaged in loud conversation. “Granted, this little town seems charming enough. What do you people do here in the winter, anyway?”

“We eat moss and hibernate.”

“Seriously.”

“Seriously, it’s the perfect place for me. There’s plenty here to keep me intellectually occupied. It may be a small town, but we have a unique community of retirees. Ex–State Department, diplomats. And probably more than a few from our old line of work, although we’re all cagey about it. That’s how the Stone Coast Conference got its start forty years ago.”

“I heard a few old spooks got bored and decided to host a get-together.”

“And it just kept growing. Turned into this annual global affairs conference, with speakers from around the world. So you see, there’s plenty to keep me busy.”

“And personally? Are you happy here?”